


Avatar: The Last Zombie Killer

by enfira



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, Gen, Technology, bending as magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 12:09:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2651555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enfira/pseuds/enfira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aang has awoken into a world where magic has gone very, very wrong. Magic has somehow awoken some of the dead around him. The zombies are killing humans everywhere. The Fire nation promises a solution: more weapons and more fortifications for all, in the exchange for control of human colonies. But is the price of safety too high?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Magic

_Water. Earth. Fire. Air._

_My grandmother used to tell me stories about the old days, a time of peace when the Avatar balanced the magic of the Water tribes, Earth kingdom, Fire nation, and Air nomads. But that all changed when the zombies rose. Only the Avatar mastered all four types of magic. Only he could stop the hordes of zombies. But when the world needed him most, he vanished. A hundred years have passed, and the Fire nation is nearing total militaristic control of the human sanctuaries. Two years ago, my father and the men of my tribe traveled to the Earth kingdom to keep our freedom and push back the hordes of the wastelands, leaving me and my brother to look after our tribe. Some people believe that the Avatar was never reborn into the Air Nomads, and that the cycle is broken. But I haven’t lost hope. I still believe that, somehow, the Avatar will return to save the world._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bye, Gran Gran,” Katara said as she kissed the palm of her guardian.

“You’re not going on a hunt, are you, dear?” Her Gran Gran asked and frowned. 

“No, Gran Gran. We’re just going to fish for some food for the village” Katara grabbed her rifle off the gun rack. “We probably won’t see any zombies.”

Katara met her brother Sokka outside their house. He finished chaining a sled to the back of the snowmobile. He rubbed his hands as he turned to Katara.

“Are you ready to go out into the _wasteland_?” Sokka said “wasteland” in a spooky voice and wagged his eyebrows dramatically.

“Don’t joke, Sokka. You know this is dangerous.” She climbed onto the back of the snowmobile. Sokka climbed on the front in front of her. Katara cradled her gun between her arms. She bit her lip as she noticed the snow fall starting. This was going to make it tougher to notice anything coming while they were fishing. Snow fall like this is what killed Ila and Nunuk.

Sokka grinned. “Relax, Katara. If you can survive Gran Gran’s ‘woodland soup,’ you can survive a few walking bodies.”

Sokka stepped on the pedal hard, and the snowmobile started forward. Katara grabbed the snowmobile tightly with her left hand. “Geez, Sokka. More like if I can survive this death mobile and your driving, I can survive some zombies.”

Sokka laughed. “Why don’t you use your magic to control the snowmobile? Oh, you can’t because there’s no magic in it!”

Katara let go of the snowmobile as she looked down at her necklace. She grabbed the gem with her left hand and concentrated. The gem turned from blue to purple. She loved being able to control some magic, unlike Sokka, but she hated when he pointed out how limited it was. After all, the zombies are magic, and they’re killing everyone. Why can’t they have limits? Why is she held back? How is that fair?

Sokka drove past the village gates with a smile and nod to Chippy working on the fence. Chippy raised his father’s handgun in a loose salute. Katara looked away when she saw that. Chippy was only ten; he shouldn’t be working the boundaries. They were losing too many people; the men needed to come back and with more guns and fortifications.

Sokka drove them to the coast and parked the snowmobile next to a snow bluff. He grabbed some of the fishing spears and nets from the sled, as well as their grandfather’s old shotgun. Katara sat on the bank with her rifle between her knees. She played with a vial of magic water, opening it up and imagining the molecules within it. She waved her hands and tried to pull them all up. The water slowly crawled up the sides of the vial and then formed into a large wobbly orb in the air. She stretched her right arm, trying to extend each molecule. The water flowed into a graceful curve, thinning and growing.

“Hey Katara, look at the size of this guy!”

Katara flicked her hand in shock. Some of the water broke from the stream as droplet and hit Sokka’s face. They instantly condensed into small ice chips. He brushed them off his face with the back of his hand angrily.

“Sorry, Sokka! I can fix it!”

“No, that’s ok! Keep your magic stuff to yourself!” He kept rubbing his cheek. He stopped and stared into the distance. The look on his face was a panic she had seen many times before. Sokka dropped his spear and the large prize on it. He grabbed his shotgun. Katara pulled her rifle up and turned to the horizon.

Two zombies came from the snow. Sokka fired and caught the hand of the male zombie. Katara aimed and missed. Sokka reloaded and shot again. He frantically reloaded.

“Katara, do something!”

Katara panicked and looked at the ground. She started firing.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Something!” She kept firing. She focused on the snow and each flake that had condensed. She waved her gun and thought about the hole she had made. There had to be magic somewhere in the snow. There has to be magic in the earth. She thought of the snow shaking, and she thrust her hands in front of her.

The ground shook. Snow shifted. The male zombie collapsed to the ground. Sokka shot the female zombie, and she fell too. The ground kept shaking until snow covered the bodies. Sokka panted and froze while loading his gun. He turned to Katara.

“What did _you_ do?”

Katara stared and shook her head. She weakly dropped her hands. She kept staring at the horizon. Sokka looked around for more zombies.

“Katara!” Sokka pointed at a small crest in the ocean. She turned and raised her gun. “Does that iceberg look like it’s glowing to you?”

“Yeah, Sokka.”

“Does that mean it’s-?”

“Yeah.” She stared at the iceberg. “It’s magic.”

“Are you sure?” He started grabbing the fishing supplies. “I thought you couldn’t sense magic?”

“Between a regular rock and an enchanted one, no,” she said irritably. “But _this_ , this screams magic!”

They both stared at the iceberg. Then the ice started coming to the shore, floating more rapidly than the current. Sokka looked at Katara, and she shrugged. The iceberg stopped at the edge of the shore. Katara lowered her gun and ran her hands along the surface of the ice.

“Do you see any inscriptions? There must be a reason this is here.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I could think of one. Maybe like a giant snow quake?” Sokka squinted at the iceberg. “Or _that_.” He pointed at the center of the iceberg, where they could see a vague outline of a boy.

“We have to save him!”

Katara grabbed Sokka’s axe from the sled and started swinging at the ice.

“Katara, stop! It’s a _magical_ iceberg, so, whatever _that_ is, it’s probably not good!” Sokka looked nervously at the snow covering the two zombies. “Plus, you’re going to attract more zombies!”

“We have to help him!”

“You don’t even know it’s human! We’ve seen plenty of things that look human but aren’t.”

Sokka wrangled the axe from Katara on her backswing. Tears started to form at the corners of her eyes. She wiped them angrily with the back of her hand and then placed both of her hands shoulder width apart on the ice.

“Katara,” Sokka said cautiously. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not leaving another person behind!”

She pushed on the iceberg. The iceberg began to glow brighter and brighter. Sokka ran over next to her and put one arm around her. He tried to pull her away, but she wouldn’t budge. The iceberg glowed more until it blinded them both. A powerful force knocked them on their feet. Sokka grabbed his axe and forced Katara’s gun back in her hands. She held it in a loose grip as they both stumbled to their feet. The light receded, and, as they gained their sight back, Katara saw a small boy shivering fall face first. She dropped her gun and ran to catch him. Sokka kept his axe raised threateningly.

“Stop, Sokka, you’ll scare him.”

“Don’t treat that thing like a person until you hear it speak.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” the boy said around his teeth chattering. He fainted in Katara’s arms. Katara fumbled at his sleeves until she found the inside of his wrist. He was pale, but she pressed her index finger to check.

“Sokka, he has a pulse!” She stared at the kid’s face. He looked dead. “It’s weak, but…” She turned to her brother and smiled. “He’s human. He’s alive.”

A low moan and sounds of groaning came from the west. Sokka turned with panic and saw the dark outline of a sight familiar since childhood.

“Well, if we don’t get out of here soon, neither he nor we will be for much longer!”

He grabbed Katara and helped her and the boy to their feet. Katara and Sokka set the boy in the sled. Katara ran, grabbed her gun, and jumped in the sled with him. She aimed her gun over the back of the sled at the approaching horde. Sokka climbed on the snowmobile and strapped his gun and axe to the sides. He started the engine.

“Hang on, back there!” Sokka cried over his shoulder. “It’s going to be a rough ride!”

Katara started shooting. Her left hand brushed the kid as the sled careened forward. She jumped back with shock and looked down at the kid. He vibrated with a magic almost as strong as the iceberg. Who was he?


	2. The Frustrated Prince

Prince Zuko consulted the heads-up display of his navigation computer on the ship. He compared it to his surroundings. He could see little but ice and water on the horizon through the falling snow. His uncle came from below deck, wrapped in layers of black furs and carrying his steaming carafe of tea.

“Prince Zuko, you need some sleep.” He took a long sip and exhaled with a smile. “You’ve been staring at that computer screen for hours.”

“I can’t sleep, Uncle.” Zuko kept typing and scrolling. “I need to find the Avatar.”

“Your sleep deprivation will not bring you the answers you seek.”

“Stop talking in riddles, Uncle. Between you and these read-outs, I can’t get any straight answers!”

Zuko slammed his fist on the console. He angrily spun on his heel, stormed into his cabin, and slammed the door shut.

“What a tempestuous teenager,” grumbled one of soldiers.

“He is your prince and commander,” Iroh said in between sips of tea. “You will do well to remember that.”

He signaled the helmsman to head portside around large chunks of ice in the water. He tugged his scarlet scarf snug to his beard and knocked on the cabin. Zuko hesitated and answered the door with half his face hidden behind the door. He looked whole and unscarred. The sight reminded Iroh of a younger, more hopeful Zuko. He was stunned. Zuko opened the door more, and he saw the bitter, desperate prince again.

“Come in.” Zuko closed the door behind the two of them. Books cluttered every possible flat surface of the cabin except one. Zuko’s bed was neat and untouched. Zuko sat down in his chair and continued clacking on his keyboard. Iroh laid his hand on the desk and lightly tapped his first two fingers on the desk. Zuko looked up with a frown.

“Prince Zuko, you don’t need to do this.”

“Yes, I do. The answer is somewhere near here, and I have to check the charts until I can pinpoint the mysterious magical energy.”

“Zuko, that’s not what I mean.”

“No.” Zuko clenched his fist on the table and sighed. “I can’t return home until I have regained my honor.”

Zuko looked away from Iroh out the window. A bright flash in the distance temporarily blinded him.

“There! Uncle, did you see that?”

Zuko pointed out the window and ran to the side of the ship. Iroh joined him and looked out the window.

“Tell them helmsman to change direction. We’re heading towards the source of that light.”

Zuko turned back to his computer and started running a scan. Iroh laid his hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “Prince Zuko, maybe you should—”

“That was magical energy, Uncle. I need to investigate it.”

Zuko shrugged Iroh’s hand off his shoulder and headed back to the deck. Iroh sighed and looked at Zuko’s computer. It was still on. He had his primitive survey program open and seismic scanners. Every test suggested a large weird energy where the ship was turning. One other scan disturbed Iroh. The crude test to determine abnormal surges of energy showed a large signature usually associated with zombie hordes. The numbers were unlike any he had seen in the South Pole. He ran on to the deck after Zuko.


	3. A Different World

“Gran Gran, he’s waking up!”

Aang heard excited voices and groggily tugged at his sheets for more sleep. Instead of finding the temple silks, he felt thick furry animal hides. He pulled back his hand in shock and looked down at the thick black coat. He had never slept under a dead animal before, only beside live ones. He panicked and threw the furs off himself. He was relieved to see he was still wearing the orange thermal suit of the temple. The air was cold and dry. He adjusted some of the settings on his chest and waited; warmth tingled his neck. He breathed on his hands and looked up to see a sea of curious eyes.

“Hello!” He smiled and waved. “Have you seen my gloves?”

One of the young women passed him grey gloves. He pulled both over his hands eagerly. He pressed his forefinger on the back of his hand and pushed towards his knuckles. A red read-out blinked to indicate his increased warmth. He smiled. Then he flexed his fingers to increase the circulation of the heat.

“Who are you?” asked a girl on his left. She was one of the youngest women in the tent, about fifteen or sixteen, not much older than himself. Aang uncomfortably noticed most of the tent was filled with women, except one man, perhaps twenty or so, hanging in the back and watching him intently. Aang had been around only a handful of women in his entire life, no more than two at any given time. He smiled warily at the man and waved. Then he turned to the rest with a slightly more confident (or so he thought) smile.

“Could we talk with slightly less people?”

The man did not move or acknowledge Aang, unless the shuffle of his feet was supposed to be an acknowledgement. (It wasn’t.) However, one of the women right next to him chuckled.

“Alright, people, you heard the kid. Everyone out except Sokka, Katara, and Yakarra.”

The little old woman started pushing people out, despite their grumbling and protests. The man stayed, as did the younger woman who had asked his name and gave him gloves. She smiled at him; the man didn’t. One other women stayed in the tent, an elderly, taller woman who was wearing darker blue clothes than the rest of the tent had. She reminded Aang of one of the few women he had met: a severe teacher from the Eastern Temple who constantly berated him. She was nice. He grinned broadly at the elderly woman.

“So,” said the younger woman as she brought over a chair for the other, “back to my question. Who are you?”

The young man and woman sat down cross-legged on the tent floor.

“My name is Aang.” Aang bowed politely to each of them with a smile. “Can we go sledding?” He looked eagerly at the two younger ones. They both looked at each other in bewilderment before looking back at him.

The elderly women shook her head firmly. “Katara has spoken for you, but we have some questions to ail the tribe. I am Yakarra, the leader of the Southern Water Tribe—home front, that is.”

Aang inspected the tent walls. Most of the furniture looked makeshift and piles of possessions gave the home a temporary feeling. He tried to smile again. “I don’t mean to be…” He couldn’t think of a polite way to phrase it. “Doesn’t the Southern water tribe have more permanent settlements?”

“Oh _yeah_ , we used to have ice mansions right on the ice banks prime for ice fishing,” piped up the young man. “Before the ice bodies attacked.”

The young woman slapped her forehead. Aang laughed. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s a bunch of plays on the word ‘ice’ ‘cuz we’re surrounded by it and they’re dead. Get it?” The man waggled his eyebrows and rotated his right wrist in a circle in the air to emphasize his supposed joke. “Seriously, we should call them ice bodies.”

The young woman exhaled loudly. “He means the zombies.”

“Zombies?” Aang chuckled. “Like the walking dead?” Aang loved jokes. They used to say jokes like this at the Southern Temple. He started laughing and after he had pause to catch his breath, he noticed they were all perfectly stoic. His smile faded slightly, and he gulped audibly. “You’re kidding, right?” 

“Oh geez.” The man rolled his eyes. “I knew you nomaniacs ignore the world, but you’ve actually forgotten about the living nightmare that’s out there?”

“Sokka, shut up,” said Katara (as Aang’s excellent mind inferred must be the young woman’s name). Yakarra held up a hand, and Sokka and Katara looked down respectfully.

“Nomaniacs, wh—what…what are you talking about?” Aang looked at each of them with a smile, still waiting for the punchline.

Sokka wrinkled his eyebrows and opened his mouth. He closed it with a quick side glance at Yakarra. Katara spoke up instead. “He means Air nomad enthusiasts, those who seclude themselves and try to mimic their lifestyle.”

“Oh! No!” Aang laughed and shook his head several times emphatically. “I am an Air nomad. I did not realize that the Temples and my people had fans.”

The other three looked at each other with wary frowns. Katara kept sneaking looks at the tattoos on top of Aang’s head. He touched them self-consciously and started to panic a little.

“What?” His smile melted away.  
“Aang,” Katara hesitated. She looked quickly at the others and then the ground. Then she leaned forward and met his eyes. “The Air nomads have been dead for almost 100 years.”

Aang chuckled nervously and shook his head a few times slowly. He stared at the tent entrance and kept shaking his head more rapidly. His suit felt too hot; he probably set it too high. Master Tashi always chastised him for that, always reset the buttons for him. The tent was too small. Why did these three strangers keep staring at him? He felt numb. He climbed out of the bed. His legs wouldn’t stop shaking. He tried to walk, but his legs wouldn’t move that way. Katara came over and offered a hand. He forced a smile but didn’t take her hand. Instead he collapsed on the bed and slowed his breath, self-consciously rubbing his head. Would he be the last soul to undergo the ritual? He inhaled deeply and tried to smile at them.

“Aang, what do you remember?” asked Yakarra.

He numbly shook his head and closed his eyes. Clouds, rain, ice. Fear. Falling frantically and flailing. Numbing cold. Then a warmth that choked his lungs and a light that blinded his eyes. He shook his head again and tried to focus on his breathing.

“I—I—I—” He stopped himself and collected his thoughts. “I don’t know.” He breathed slowly and tried to think of the small garden in the center of the Academy where he used to meditate with Master Sudi. His mind flickered to the mountain crops of the Southern Air Temple—no, he couldn’t think of that. “What,” his voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “What happened?”

“They were attacked in the rising. Zombies wiped the Temples. No defenses, no weapons. The Air Nation was…defenseless.” Katara’s voice faded to a soft droning sound.

Aang shook his head bitterly and held back his tears.

“Aang?” asked Katara gently.

“I—I need a moment.” Aang gripped his wrist and looked at the tattoos extending from the back of his hands. He remembered the ritual and all of the monks showing up. He had helped prepare the feast, and it was amazing. That was before. He couldn’t think. Memories of his home, the other Temples, and brief glimpses of Air nomads in the countryside. Just farming. They all filled him. His whole body was shaking, and he fought his tears. He tried to think of the garden. He tried to breathe. He tried to find some kind of peace.

“I was home—at the Southern Air Temple, visiting my family—the monks. There were no…” He smiled, still terrified but transported in memories. “There were no zombies anywhere. Not that I had ever heard. Then…I don’t know… _you_?” He looked at Katara, who nodded. She gave him a small, sympathetic smile. He smiled back. “And you, too.” He smiled at Sokka, who didn’t return it. “Then…here, I guess.”

The three of them looked at each other and him. Yakarra waved the other two next to her. Katara, Sokka, and Yakarra spoke quietly in whispers away from Aang. He didn’t eavesdrop. He never had since Master Zendui had forced him to scrub the Academy’s entire kitchen for eavesdropping on the Great Masters. He thought of his friends at the Southern Air Temple, and his heart ached. He burned to ask about the Academy, but Madam Riora emphasized secrecy on the Academy. Yakarra lightly tapped Aang’s arm, and he turned, surprised, caught out of his memories.

“Aang, would you submit,” Yakarra paused and pursed her lips as if she smelled something foul before saying, “a tissue sample?”

He stared at her wide-eyed in shock.

“It would allow us to confirm your story,” explained Katara, before quickly adding, “We could also try to find some of your family and assure you are okay, after your—” She hesitated. “Magical iceberg experience.”

“My _what_?” Aang started laughing very hard. He had never heard something so absurd. Except zombies. Those were absurd too. And they hadn’t explained it yet. The whole thing made him laugh harder until he looked up. None of the three were laughing; they just watched him. Then Sokka burst out laughing. Katara nudged him with her elbow.

“What?! It _does_ sound kinda funny outloud.”

Yakarra frowned at Sokka. He stopped laughing with an apologetic look and shrug at Aang, who smiled back. Then Aang turned to Yakarra.

“I guess you could take one, but it wouldn’t tell you anything about me. The Academy erased my existence.”

“The Academy?” Katara’s eyes widened. “Do you mean the Avatar Academy?”

Aang gave her a big grin and nodded his head once confidently. He hadn’t really broken any secrecy saying that.

“Did you know the Avatar? They said he was an Air Nomad, like you.”

Aang’s smile twitched at his corners. “I had friends who knew him. There were too many Potentials to keep track.” He hoped that was evasive enough. He was a bad liar.

Aang hesitated and thought about all of the halls he had run around chasing and playing games with his friends. He remembered hours and hours of bored studying, barely paying attention, except the Air magic. Good times. He suddenly panicked and grabbed Katara’s hand. “Is the Academy okay?”

“No, I mean yes, I mean,” Katara wrangled her hand free and corrected herself. “The Academy was dismantled. The people left safely back to their homes, but there was no point when the Avatar disappeared. No Potentials showed potential anymore.”

Aang put his head down and stared at the sheets. He felt stabbing pains in his chest and a throbbing in his head. When he controlled his breathing, the chest pains left, but his head still felt numb. He looked up and realized the numb feeling was coming from Katara’s throat.

“Magic,” he gasped at the power he felt from the necklace.

“What? Oh!” Katara looked down and waved her right hand in front of her necklace, finger by finger, in a clockwise motion. The gem’s misty colors swirled and changed from a blue to vivid violent. “Yep, magic!” She smiled eagerly.

Aang smiled too. “You’re a water bender.”

“Yeah,” she gave him a small half smile, then said softly, “The last one in the Southern water tribe.”

Aang smiled, holding back a wince of pain. The Southern water tribe used to have many benders, what he guessed must’ve been many years ago. “You should go to the Northern water tribe,” Aang said eagerly, “They could show you more magic!”

“That would be great!” Katara sighed and leaned back. Aang watched her smile fade as she slowly looked back at him with hooded pain. He gave her a big, hopeful grin. “But there are zombies around us and no ships, Aang.” Her eyebrows twitched in pain. “I can’t leave.”

“We could take A.P.P.A.!”

Sokka leaned forward. “App—what now?”

“An All-Weather Propane Propelled Airship, you know?”Aang paused and frowned. “Wait, you didn’t see it? It’s not here?”

“No,” piped up Sokka. “And I doubt a hundred year old air thingy can fly.”

“It _could_ ,” Katara argued. “We could go back to the iceberg and look for it.”

“No way! There was a _horde_ swarming there, Katara, remember?” Sokka waved his hands frantically for dramatic effect. Aang laughed at him. Sokka grumpily pouted at him, which looked strange on a twenty year old, and emphatically bugged his eyes out at Katara to emphasize her current supposed insane state.

Katara rolled her eyes. “We can go in the morning, bring a few more people. We’ve done tougher raids for just snowmobiles before, and this could be an airship. Sokka, we could go to the Earth kingdom!”

Sokka’s back straightened as if he had been electrocuted. He smiled. Then he hid his smile, smoothed his ponytail on top of his head, and cleared his throat. “We should consider this.”

Yakarra pursed her lips at both of them. “We will give you lodging tonight, Aang, and assist you in looking for your A.P.P.A. But, I must assist on a tissue sample anyways.”

Aang pouted. Then he nodded. “Okay! Now, Katara, Sokka, can we go do something fun?” Aang jumped off the bed and flung his arms wide. He ran towards the tent entrance. He didn’t look to see if they were following him; he just ran, laughing.  
***  
Aang ran in a zigzag to avoid the eight year old boy chasing him, eagerly and lightly stepping over crates. Other young boys ran around, as well, not quite following the rules Aang explained, but laughing and having fun. He grinned broadly and waved them closer.

“Now, you have to try and move like the seaturtle and reach that side without leaving a trail!”

The boys laughed and ran off, pushing each other and brushing the snow behind them to try and hide their path. Sokka came from a tent, angrily pushing past some of the women tending the morning fire, and marched over to Aang.

“You!” he shouted. “Stop tainting my warriors!”

“What?” Aang laughed and shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“Come over here!” Sokka hollered at the young boys. Some of them tried to hide, but most of them grumbled and shuffled their boots towards him. Katara ran out from the same tent and grabbed Sokka’s arm, trying to pull him back. He angrily pushed him off of her.

“Sokka, stop! They’re just playing a game!”

“Leave the warriors alone!” Sokka jabbed Aang with his forefinger angrily to punctuate his point.

“Warriors? They’re just kids.”

“They’re all the men we have in case a large swarm comes or the Fire nation comes!”

“They are children!” Aang gasped.

“They _are_ all of the males,” said Katara. “Sokka, just leave it be.”

“We’re not taking any of these kids with us, are we?”

Sokka spun from look at the kids and angrily turned to Aang. “How old do you think _you_ are? Or us?”

Katara grabbed his arm again. “They’re not coming.” Katara waved over to teenaged women and a boy about twelve years old. “These guys are. Aang, this is Kyabi, Akka, and Kohak.” The three individuals waved and greeted. The young boy awkwardly slung a short spear over his back. He was _young_ , so young. Aang smiled at each of them and gave a small bow. 

One of the girls leaned closer to him. “You’re coming with me.”

“Umm, excuse me?” 

She clicked her tongue and nodded her head in the direction of three snowmobiles. “The one of the left is ours. I’m driving.”

Aang held up his finger and tried to compose an intelligent protest. Katara smiled from the corner of his eye. He grinned at the girl. “Okay!”

Aang got on the back of the snowmobile with the girl (who he later learned was Kyabi) and grabbed her waist tighter at her constant insistence. Akka and Kohak grabbed the middle snowmobile with Kohak awkwardly checking the strap on his spear, constantly fidgeting. Katara and Sokka jumped on the right snowmobile with a wave to Aang. He smiled at Katara and then gritted his teeth as Kyabi revved the engine and pulled away from the snow bank. Wind whipped past his gums and waved his lips every which way.

They sped past trees and expanses of snow, with flakes fluttering down in front of his eyes. He closed his eyes against the cold and the nauseous driving. After more jogging motions, squinting eyes, and grabbing Kyabi’s waists tightly then remembering she was a girl and that was rude and awkwardly loosening his grip. Then they stopped. 

“You can let go of me, tiny Airbender.”

“Right,” Aang untangled his arm and shakily climbed off the snowmobile, falling into the snow. He felt himself dragged to his feet and sheepishly grinned at a peeved Sokka. “So let’s find A.P.P.A.! Where was the magical iceberg?”

They all looked at the bank. There was nothing around except water and ice. From the corner of his eye, Aang saw Sokka roll his eyes at Katara and mumble under his breath. Katara grabbed Akka and Kohak.

“You two take point over here and there. Holler as soon as you see something. Don’t hesitate to shoot.” She stopped and looked intently at Kohak. “Okay?” He nodded slowly. Katara pointed ahead to the edge of the bank. They headed towards it, with Kyabi walking backwards and aiming her gun at the south tree line. They stopped at the edge. Nothing.

“Where is it?”

They all stared.

“Huh.” Sokka slung his gransfather’s shotgun over his shoulder. “Weird.”

“There!” Aang pointed to the edge of an icy spit of land hanging over the water. He pushed at the ground and propelled himself across the ice like gliding and up to the land. He grinned and inspected A.P.P.A. He pet the engine with a deeply satisfied sigh.

“Hello, buddy,” He pressed his cheek against the dash as he slipped into the front seat. “I missed you.” His voice cracked as he thought of his old friends, the Southern water tribe, and the Academy. Gone. His hands shook as he started the engine. It purred happily to life. He looked down at his new friends, smiled, and waved with a cheery cock of his head. They were all staring at him. Just staring. 

“What’s wrong?” he called. He moved the wheel and pulled A.P.P.A. down to the coast with them.

“ _How_ did you do that?” cried Katara. 

“There’s magic in this ground. You told me I was found in a magic iceberg. Well, this whole land screams of it. I just moved the energy to a kinetic form to push myself to A.P.P.A.”

They were all staring at him. Just staring.

“Umm, magic?” Aang grinned sheepishly as he stopped A.P.P.A. and waved them into the airship. They climbed in, except Sokka who glared at it.

“I doubt it can get very far. It’s an old piece of junk.”

“Come _on_.” Katara grabbed his arm and pulled him down into the airship. He protested. She yanked harder, and he toppled head first into the seat next to her. Kyabi giggled from the front seat. Sokka pulled himself up, lacking all grace and dignity. Aang smiled.

“Sokka!”

They all turned to the distant screaming of Akka. She pointed at the ocean behind them. They all turned their necks quickly to look at the choppy waters. Nothing. Then, from behind floating chunks of ice, a ship rose with a black bow and sharp angular frame piercing the waves. 

“No!” Katara cried.

They were all staring at the ocean. Just staring.

“Go!” Sokka screamed. “Go! That’s Fire Nation!” He hit Aang’s arm frantically. Aang started the engine, methodically switching controls second nature, while confusion surged with panic. Fire Nation wasn’t scary in his day. Just…different. He turned A.P.P.A. away from the banks anyways and stopped beside Akka and Kohak. Kohak scrambled in, but Akka squared her shoulders and faced the ocean.

“Go! I’m going to stay and stall them!”

Kohak screamed, “Akka, no!”

Sokka hit Aang’s arm again. “Go, go, go!” Akka echoed his cries. Kohak kept screaming and shaking. Kyabi grabbed him and held him into his seat by pushing her seat down on his knees. He screamed louder and started crying. Katara grabbed his shoulders and pressed his head into her crook and shushed him. Sokka and Akka kept screaming at Aang. He left. A.P.P.A. pulled away with a streak of dark smoke and leaving A kka behind, waving her gun at the wasteland while furtively looking at the ocean.

Aang could hear Kohak’s muffled sobs as he tried to follow Sokka’s shouted and confusing instructions.

“It’s okay, Kohak, your sister will be okay.”

Aang’s stomach turned. Sokka hollered at Kyabi to keep an eye for bodies. He occasionally heard her gunshots in the distance jarring his reverie. What world was this? What had he left behind? What was left?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small note: Aang isn't very good at telling age, so the ages he ascribes to characters may or _may_ not be accurate. Consider them loose ballparks.


End file.
